Page 50 of The Wolf

Brine did as he was told, keeping his gaze on the floor. No need to challenge her.

Yet.

Arwen was shorter than him, but she was wearing high-heeled boots that brought her almost up to his eyeline. Gently, so gently, she cupped his cheek, his sharp black nails whispering across his cheekbone.

Brine braced himself. He also knew what came after such tenderness.

Pain. Always pain.

When the slap came, it hit hard and fast, the woman’s talons just barely slicing into the surface of his cheek. He rocked back, stunned by the strength in Arwen’s hand, but didn’t stumble. He held his ground and simply stared down at his grandmother in silence, knowing he had to wait for her to speak first.

Very slowly, her smile transformed into a full-on wolfish grin—though she hated the wolf side of her ancestry—and spread her arms wide. “Welcome home, grandson. It is good to have you back in our midst.”

Brine breathed an internal sigh of relief.

The second hurdle of his suicidal plan had been successfully cleared.

He’d been accepted back into the pack by the Alpha.

TWENTY-FOUR

SCARLET

“Did you hear? Lady Arwen’s grandson has returned!”

Scarlet froze with a spoon halfway to her mouth. The contents spilled back into a wooden bowl. “What do you—what do you mean?” she asked the servant who had come to change the linens.

“He arrived three days ago. You really didn’t know? That was who Lady Arwen was entertaining in the reception hall! Scarlet, are you … all right?” The servant frowned in concern. Scarlet couldn’t even force a smile to her pale face. She got to her feet, abandoning her breakfast, and wordlessly bowled past the servant and out of her room.

No.

That’s who had been in the grand entrance earlier this morning. She hadn’t even dared to look up from the floor when they’d entered the house. Arwen had been in a foul mood that Scarlet didn’t want to test.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She gasped, her breathing labored as she skidded downstairs and along hallways until she reached the kitchen. Never had she been so glad for mimkia. The wounds on her back barely even smarted now, even at her breakneck pace through the manor.

He can’t be here. If he’s here, then…

Scarlet was buggered.

“Jaq! Gus!” Scarlet cried the moment she burst into the kitchen, then, “Dris!” when she saw that she was thankfully also there. They turned to her in surprise, which rapidly evolved into fear when they saw how panicked she was.

“Whatever is the matter?” Dris asked, dropping the rolling pin in her hands to rush over to Scarlet. Her sons were quick to do the same, though the rest kitchen staff did not stopped what they were doing. None of them would get to eat if the people responsible for cooking breakfast for the residents of the manor stopped working. They had long since learned not to get themselves involved with any and all drama involving Scarlet.

Her hands shook as she ushered all three of her friends into the pantry.

“What is wrong dearest? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Dris said, eyes crinkled in concern.

“I’ve made a horrible mistake,” Scarlet whispered. “I’m going to get everyone killed.”

Jaq’s eyes narrowed. “Explain.”

So she did.

About meeting helping biracial couples and children. Meeting Brine in Merjeri, about how she couldn’t dispatch the Lady Marianne, about the Callmai. About a haphazard, stupid plan to blow up her stepmother’s ship, and how she had run into Brine there once again. How he had caught her red-handed, ready to light up the casks of explosives, and how he had saved her life. She had done the same in return, even though it was clear Brine was working for his grandmother once again.

“He’s back,” she said, voice trembling.

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